Prison Hospice Teaches A Life Lesson

COMMENTARY

Roughly 600,000 inmates are released from state prisons across the country annually, and next year I hope to be among them.

Some of those released will become your neighbors and co-workers and, as they do, the effectiveness of whatever rehabilitation efforts their states offer in prison will be put to the test.

The practice of warehousing offenders is outdated, economically unfeasible and does nothing to prepare inmates for reintegration into the community. So states are being forced to think outside the box for solutions to this growing problem. It appears that the Connecticut Department of Correction is embracing one of those solutions.

In recent years, the department has adopted a number of innovative programs that have proved successful. These hands-on activities teach participants how to develop empathy, compassion and pride while practicing honesty, integrity, patience and caring — values not commonly associated with prisoners.

At Osborn prison in Somers, where I was serving a 25-year sentencefor armed robbery, the programs include Alternatives to Violence, Certified Nurses Aide and hospice, among others. I was an Alternatives to Violence facilitator and a hospice volunteer. I was recently transferred to the Niantic Annex Prison.

I became involved with hospice because I wanted to change who I was and give something back to society after a lifetime of taking from others. I was selfish and angry and could not be trusted. I cared about nothing and had a propensity for violence. I was a liar and a thief and desperately needed to change.

As a hospice volunteer, I received no pay, benefits or special recognition, but felt the satisfaction of helping someone in need. Over the past six years, I have had the privilege of caring for more than a dozen dying men. I learned that every person has value, and no matter how different we may appear, we are far more similar than we sometimes think.

Does a person's age or skin color matter when he is dying? No, all that matters is that he has reached the end and should not have to die alone. This is what hospice is about.

From this experience I have come to appreciate the fragility and value of life. I've learned to care about someone other than myself, to give freely without expecting anything in return.

At 55, I have faced my own mortality, and now realize I have been given an incredible gift — the chance to change my life while there is still time.

With the help of these programs, I've done just that. I think now before I act. I look for positive ways to resolve problems. I understand the importance of following rules and the consequences involved. I am able to put others before myself and serve as a mature example for others.

As an Alternative to Violence facilitator I was able to explore the roots of my anger and help others do the same. This has led to a decision to lead a nonviolent lifestyle.

I am not alone. There is a community of men at Osborn who have dedicated themselves to the same goal — changing their lives while helping others. These are the men who one day will successfully transition back to their communities.

God willing, I will leave prison next year. I will not be back, thanks in part to these programs. They have saved my life. Planning for this type of outcome should be the goal of future prison programs.

After my release, I plan to continue to give back to my community and help to change the way prisoners are rehabilitated.

Studies show that these programs lower recidivism rates and help prepare offenders for their return to society. Isn't that what's really best for our communities? These programs will make us better neighbors and better people. They work. I have seen it first-hand and know this to be true.

Keith Barile is an inmate at the Niantic Annex Correctional Institution in Niantic..